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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22816531">The Rollercoaster of Life</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisyith/pseuds/Daisyith'>Daisyith</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Formula 1 RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Crying, Domestic Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:28:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,817</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22816531</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisyith/pseuds/Daisyith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Max can't handle the anger anymore. On the eve of his first championship win, he finds himself locked in the toilet rather than celebrating with his team. Dan finds him and comforts him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pierre Gasly/Max Verstappen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. It's ok not to be alright.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fury. Anger. Hatred. Raw emotion burned through Max’s blood, coursing through his body until he couldn’t take it anymore. It was all encompassing, absorbing his every thought until normality seemed unreachable. He couldn’t bear to be left alone with his own thoughts anymore.</p><p>Suddenly, Max lunged forwards and wrapped his fingers around the glass bottle in front of him, the glass sticky to his touch. He lifted it to his mouth and let the cool fluid spill over his tongue. The amber liquid warmed his throat and he could feel the burn all the way to his chest. Finally, he was feeling something other than anger. Max could hear the sounds of laughter echoing around the energetic room. But to him, it was meaningless. He had never felt so alone. He was surrounded by hundreds of people but it may as well have been just him, standing alone in this vast room. Max glanced around, eyes gazing over the people he used to call friends. But where were they when he needed them most? Why couldn’t they see that he didn’t belong here? Max felt the rage bubbling inside his chest again. He knew it was unfair but he hated that they couldn’t see how he was feeling, that he wasn’t happy here anymore. Without a word, Max stood up and kicked his chair away. He wobbled slightly, the room now spinning under the influence of alcohol. He saw a few eyes turn to look at him and they smiled at the now world champion. Max willed the corners of his mouth to turn up, to form a passable smile even if it didn’t reach his eyes. But why he was still trying to be civil, he wasn’t sure. They didn’t care about him, they only cared about the team winning. He turned away from the crowd and rolled his eyes. He had to get out of here. Nobody would even miss him.</p><p>The thought spurred Max on as he pushed his way through dancing bodies. He held his gaze to the floor, desperately trying to avoid entering a conversation he couldn’t refuse. In his hurry, Max stumbled over his own feet as he tried to push open the large wooden doors. He rushed through and frantically, darted through corridor after corridor. With every turn, Max could feel the irritation rising. He felt like he was in a maze, every wall looking identical and every floor carpeted with the same disgusting green. He didn’t know where his hotel room was. Eventually, Max pushed through the only identifiable door and into the cleanliness of the toilets. He curled himself into one of the cubicles and quickly locked the door. Momentary relief. Max lifted up the hem of his shirt until his stomach was visible. His fingers ghosted over the green that had spread like fire. His whole stomach was a mottled colour, the result of a fist against skin. Max winced at the light touch. It still hurt. How had nobody noticed? With a heavy sigh, Max put his head in his hands. For the first time that day, he let the emotion take hold of him. Within seconds, Max’s whole body was wracked with raw, ugly sobs. He knew his shirt would be speckled with tears and that his eyes would be red and bloodshot. But he didn’t care. All he could think about was how it had come to this. What had gone wrong?</p><p>Max wasn’t sure how much time had passed. He knew he was exhausted, his whole body spent. But since he had started crying, the tears wouldn’t stop. It felt like the floodgates had opened, finally letting him know that it was ok not to be alright. </p><p>Max’s whole body tensed as he heard the bathroom door swing open and a set of footsteps enter against the tiled floor. Eventually, his sobbing had reduced to a few shaky breaths and the occasional bout of tears but he didn’t want anybody to hear his breakdown. Max held his breath and sat, frozen in fear. </p><p>“Hello? Are you alright in here?” A voice called, the owner of the footsteps Max presumed but he didn’t answer. He didn’t want anyone to find him, couldn’t risk the media finding out about how he spent the evening of his great victory. After a moment, he heard the bathroom door open and close and the bathroom was once again filled solely with the sounds of his own sniffling. Max stayed like that for a while, hunched over the toilet as he let his body calm down after its sudden outburst. Eventually, with a sigh, he pulled himself into a standing position. His eyes ached and he longed to splash cold water against the swollen skin. But as Max opened the cubicle door, he noticed a figure perched on the side by the sink. A very familiar figure. </p><p>“Dan?” Max gasped in surprise. </p><p>Dan smiled sadly as he hopped down from the side, “I recognised your trainers Max. Now are you going to tell me why you locked yourself in the toilet when you should be celebrating your championship?”</p><p>Feeling like there was nothing left to give, Max slumped against the ceramic tiles. His whole body shook as sobs once again escaped his parted lips. Dan sat next to Max, putting an arm around the younger man’s shoulders, pulling Max towards him. “It’s alright, it’s going to be alright.” He whispered over and over again into Max’s hair as his hand stroked soothing circles onto his back, “Whatever’s happened, it’s going to be alright Max.” </p><p>After a while, Max sat up and ran shaking fingers through his hair. He knew he had to tell Dan what had happened, there was no way that the Australian would leave him alone otherwise. He longed to have Dan back on the team, to be his teammate. Dan was always so perceptive, he knew when Max was happy and when he was upset. He would have known something was wrong, maybe he would have been able to help before it was too late. Or maybe, having Dan as his teammate again would have stopped it from happening in the first place. No. That wasn’t a fair thought. It wasn’t Dan’s fault that everything had crumpled when he’d moved to Renault.But everytime Max opened his mouth, nothing but a shaky breath or a heavy sigh escaped.</p><p>“Max…” Dan prompted carefully, not wanting to push the young man too far.</p><p>Max shook his head. Instead, his fingers touched the hem of his shirt. Slowly, he lifted the material, exposing the tender bruise. Under the harsh, bright light, the green colour was intensified and Max was aware of how it stood out against his pale stomach. </p><p>“Fuck…” Dan murmured, he brushed his thumb against the mottled skin but withdrew instantly as Max winced, “What happened? Was it Pierre?” Dan asked gently. He was aware of something between the two teammates, they weren’t exactly subtle. But never did he think Pierre would be capable of this… the man was usually happy and charming to all. Then again, Dan didn’t know what happened behind closed doors. </p><p>Max closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He nodded, the movement slow and steady before he buried his head into Dan’s neck again. </p><p>“Fuck… I’m going to fucking kill him Max.” In any other situation, Max would have been amused by the anger that was so unlike Dan. But now, his head shot up quickly and he glared at Dan,</p><p>“You can’t tell anyone. No-one can find out, I don’t want the press getting hold of this.” He said frantically. </p><p>Dan opened his mouth as though he wanted desperately to disagree. But he looked at Max’s bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks and knew he would do anything to see the Dutch man smile again. Even if it meant keeping Max’s secret. Reluctantly he nodded, “I won’t tell anyone Max, I promise.” </p><p>The two sat in a comfortable silence for a while, Dan’s arm still slung around Max’s shoulder. Both men desperately hoped that no-one would enter the unlocked bathroom but when Dan had left the party, he doubted anyone would have been of sound mind by now let alone physically able to travel this far. Max was the first to break the silence, asking the question that had been on his mind since first spotting Dan in the bathroom,</p><p>“Why are you here, shouldn’t you be partying with Renault tonight?”</p><p>Dan smiled, squeezing Max’s shoulder with rough fingers, “I snuck away early. Couldn’t miss seeing my little Maxy win his first championship, could I?”</p><p>Max glared at Dan again, “I told you not to call me that!”</p><p>They settled back into their comfortable silence, neither man wanted to move, content in their positions despite sitting on the floor of a toilet. This time, Dan spoke. His voice was barely above a whisper,</p><p>“I just wish you had told me, I could have helped you Max. I thought we were friends.” </p><p>The pain in Dan’s voice tugged at Max’s heart and nearly broke him again. His whole body launched into ugly sobs as he buried himself in Dan’s arms, “I’m sorry Dan, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He repeated over and over again.</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Secret in the open</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Max has to tell Christian, no matter how hard it is.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bright sunlight crept through the gap between the parted curtains. Pain coursed through Max's head, the sudden appearance of light causing spirals of colour to dance before his closed eyes. His whole body ached, from his forehead to his toes. As he peeled his eyes open, Max winced. He mentally cursed himself for drinking so much but it had been momentary relief. A chance to escape the cage of his own thoughts. Drinking had become a far too frequent occasion for Max in recent weeks.</p><p> </p><p>Max moved his hands above his head, stretching his tired muscles. He grimaced as the motion pulled at the tender skin of his stomach. His fingers fluttered across the mottled skin as the events of the previous evening came flooding back. Dan knew everything. Fear flooded Max's body. His secret was out in the open. Without hesitation, Max sat upright, gasping for breath. His chest felt tight. He couldn't breathe. A cold sweat coated his skin. Shaking fingers clutched at his hair, desperately pulling. He had to stop the blinding fear that had started to course through his skin. </p><p> </p><p>"Max?" The familiar voice called across the room, Australian accent thick with sleep. Dan glanced over at Max and instantly pulled himself from the warmth of his position curled on the sofa. </p><p> </p><p>Panic bubbled inside Max. What was he doing in Dan's bed? The last thing he could remember was sitting on the floor of the bathroom with Dan. What had happened? Why couldn't he remember anything past that moment? This wasn't the first time Max was missing memories from an evening. But the last time it had happened, it was the result of something slipped into his drink. Max shuddered at the thought. But that wouldn't have happened last night. Not with Dan, he was nothing like Pierre.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, strong fingers pressed against his back, moving in soothing circles," 'S alright Little Maxy." Dan mumbled, concern lacing his voice. Dan's fingers kept circling his back. The motion was familiar to Max, reminiscent of the night before, pulling him back to the present. To the there and then. He felt the pressure around his chest ease slightly with each breath, "Come here Little Maxy." Dan murmured softly, his hands moved to Max's shoulders as he pulled the smaller man towards him. Max relaxed into Dan's touch, relishing in the warmth of the other man. The small comfort made Max feel like maybe, just maybe he could get through today. </p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Max brought his knees to his chest, huddling under the warmth of the water. He sat still, thoughts rushing through his mind. He had no idea what to do. He was stuck in an impossible situation. Pierre was his teammate, they shared press conferences, they sat next to each other in debrief. He couldn't escape the other man. As much as he wanted to run away, he wasn't sure it was even possible. The water pounded against his tired body, washing away the pain of his hangover. It left instead, the familiar sensation of anger bubbling. It was something that Max had grown so accustomed to, something that he started to recognise as normal. 'Fuck you Pierre', he spat angrily, 'How dare you destroy me like this. I used to love racing and now I can't even enjoy being world fucking champion.'</p><p> </p><p>Max let out a heavy sigh, letting his fingers ghost over the mottled bruise on his stomach. What could he do? There was one thing he did know, he couldn't stay there. He couldn't carry on like this. But what would happen if he told Christian? Would the man even take it seriously? The water began to run cold and Max pulled his aching muscles out of the comfort of the shower. It had been his little bubble, his momentary relief. But now, it was time to take on the world. </p><p> </p><p>Towel slung low around his waist, Max apprehensively stepped into the hotel room. Dan looked tired, like he had barely slept last night and Max felt guilt wash over his body. He was sure the shadowed eyes were reflected on his own face but he knew he was the cause of Dan's exhaustion too,</p><p> </p><p>"Do you have a shirt or something I can borrow?" Max asked, gesturing to his crumpled shirt from the previous evening. Everything he owned was in the room he was sharing with Pierre and he couldn't face going back there, not yet. He wasn't sure if he ever could. </p><p> </p><p>Dan rummaged through his luggage, pulling out an old t-shirt in a familiar shade of blue. He threw the faded shirt at Max, his eyes never leaving the tender skin of Max's stomach. The younger man quickly pulled the shirt over his head and carefully smoothed the fabric over his skin. His eyes fell on the RedBull logo of the shirt and he looked questioningly at Dan.</p><p> </p><p>"Reminds me of a better time, I like looking at it sometimes." He explained shrugging. </p><p> </p><p>Max took a deep breath, "Do you ever wonder if you made the wrong decision?" He asked curiously, it had been something on Max's mind since the Australian had made the shock move. </p><p> </p><p>Dan nodded, "All the fucking time mate." He answered sadly. He would give anything to be working back at RedBull. Particularly now, with Max as his teammate. He longed to look after the younger man, to make everything better. </p><p> </p><p>A moment of silence passed between the two. With a heavy sigh, Dan ran his fingers through his hair, his curls bounced erratically, "I've been thinking…" </p><p> </p><p>"-Me too." Max interjected, "I have to tell Christian, don't I?" He asked sadly. </p><p> </p><p>Dan nodded, "I don't think you have a choice mate. But I can stay if you want?" </p><p> </p><p>Thankful for the presence of his old friend, Max nodded and mustered a weak smile. Max ignored the series of missed calls and angry texts. He dialled the familiar number and waited.</p><p> </p><p>Every touch, every prod and every punch had been carefully calculated. Pierre had known what he was doing. He knew that Max wouldn't tell the secret to the world, too afraid of what people would think. He knew Max didn't want to be labelled as the poor, weak battered man. So Pierre branded Max in places that could be concealed, places he knew no-one would see. Anger. Frustration. Disappointment. Every race DNF, every crash, every bad media comment. It had all been taken out on Max, skin against skin. </p><p> </p><p>Max lifted the hem of his... of Dan's shirt and exposed the tender skin to curious eyes. Christian inhaled, a sharp intake of breath, "Fucking hell Max. Has he done it before?"</p><p> </p><p>Afraid that tears would fall from eyes, Max didn't trust himself to open his mouth. He opted instead to nod slightly. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck… Why didn't you say something Max?" </p><p> </p><p>Dan's eyes narrowed. He spoke for the first time, his usually bright eyes filled with rage, "He's saying something now." </p><p> </p><p>Christian nodded, "Of course. Look Max, it's the winter break so leave it with me." He said, fingers fiddling with the collar of his shirt. Never once did Christian expect a problem to this scale between his driver. "Can you stay somewhere, away from him?" </p><p> </p><p>Max hung his head low. He wasn't sure. He shared a house with Pierre, they worked together, they had a holiday booked. How was he going to avoid Pierre? Max turned to look at Dan, hopelessness flooding his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Dan shrugged, smile brewing as a plan began to form in his mind, "What do you say to a trip to Australia?" </p>
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